


Home on the Range

by sffan



Category: Firefly
Genre: Age Difference, First Time, M/M, May/December Relationship, Other, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-04-29 14:11:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14474388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sffan/pseuds/sffan
Summary: First time. A story about how Mal may have lost his virginity on that ranch with 40 hands.





	Home on the Range

**Author's Note:**

> This one’s for Lud and dirty_diana. They know why *g* Yeah. I know the title’s dorky, but it fits. 
> 
> I knew Open Doors was going to be uploading my fic. I had no idea they actually had....
> 
> Original publication date: January 3, 2004
> 
> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Firefly’s Glow](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Firefly%27s_Glow), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Firefly's Glow collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/fireflysglow/profile).
> 
> My disclaimer: This fic is from a previous archive, written between 2002 and 2008. No additional changes or edits have been made since it’s original posting date and none will be. A further note, Firefly was my first fandom, there are bound to be rookie mistakes. To preserve my own development as a writer, I am not editing or correcting them. You may find yourself making this face O_o occasionally.

xinggan= sexy  
Tianna= oh God  
Made = fuck  
Dong ma= understand 

I watch him from the front step of the house as he hammers in another fence post, his tanned skin glistening with sweat. He's wearing nothing but a pair of pants that this year's growth spurt has made so tight that they hug his perfect ass like a second skin. My hands twitch at the thought of caressing it. 

He's all of seventeen years old and already absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown hair, just a touch too long, flops loosely into his deep blue eyes as he swings the mallet. I watch intently as the muscles along his back and arms and chest flex and ripple with the effort. 

I feel like every kind of dirty old man as my 40 year old eyes crawl all over his body, but I just can't seem to stop myself lately. I sigh quietly to myself, knowing damn well his mother would have my guts and more for garters if she had any idea as to the thoughts I was having about her boy. 

"Quite the eyeful, ain't he?" I jump when I hear Rebecca Reynold's voice in my ear and I can feel my face turn red. 

She laughs warmly and pats me gently on the shoulder. "Looks just like his father did at that age," she says wistfully. "He's gonna be a heart-breaker, that's for sure." 

I stutter and try to come up with something, anything to say to her but I can't. She laughs again and says, "You've been eyeing my boy like a starving man eyes a piece of steak for the past year, Joshua, no need to clam up now. Just don't hurt him, okay?" 

"Rebecca, I would never..." I start but she interrupts me. "If it's just ruttin' tell him. Don' t make him no promises you don't plan on keeping." 

I can hear the bitterness in her voice and I know she's thinking about Malcolm's father, and I wonder yet again exactly who this man was that broke her heart so badly. I came to town long after he had upped stakes and disappeared, leaving Rebecca behind, carrying his child. 

Before I can offer any words of comfort, Rebecca smiles at me and says with a smirk, "I think that boy of mine could use a glass of lemonade, don't you?" And then she disappears into the house, only to reappear a few moments later with a tall glass of lemonade. 

I gape at her in dumbfounded silence as she hands me the glass Rebecca smiles fondly at me and says, "I'd rather it was someone I know and trust, Joshua." Before I can gather my wits, she turns and reenters the house. 

I stand there, stunned, just looking at the glass, and looking at the boy I'm supposed to give it to. The water beading along its sides echoes the sweat glistening on Malcolm's back. I take a deep breath and then another before I screw up my courage and make my way slowly down the steps of the front porch and limp across the yard towards Malcolm. 

"You know, you can get heat stroke working so hard in the sun, boy," I say as I approach him. "Why don't you wait for some of the others to give you a hand?" 

Malcolm stops working and wipes his forehead with the back of a dusty hand and leans the mallet against the post. He shrugs and replies, "It has to be done, Josh. Figured I might as well get started on it." 

I shake my head at him and say with a smile, "So responsible." I then hand him the lemonade and continue, "Here, your mother thought you might be thirsty." 

He beams at me and replies, "Thanks." 

I watch as Malcolm chugs the beverage down, his Adam's apple working as he swallows. He's drinking so fast that some of the lemonade escapes and I track the beads of liquid as they trail down his jaw and throat. I drag my eyes back up to his with great difficulty as he finishes up and wipes his mouth with his hand. 

"Ahhhhh! That hit the spot," Malcolm says with a big grin. When he hands me back the glass our fingers touch and everything just freezes as we look into each other's eyes. There's no way I can mask the desire in mine and Malcolm flushes a bright pink and quickly pulls away and drops his gaze to the ground. 

"Anyway...I...I...better get back to work here," Malcolm stammers. I've never seen him quite so discomforted before and I would be concerned if I wasn't absolutely certain that I had seen my own desire reflected back at me for an instant before the boy pulled his eyes from mine. 

* * *

The rest of the day passes in a bit of a blur. The other hands return and help Malcolm with the fence, while Rebecca and I work on the accounts. It looks like Reynold's Ranch is going to have a good year. 

Malcolm comes in and out of the house a little more often than usual and expresses an interest in numbers he's never had before. After he leaves for the fifth time, Rebecca starts to laugh. 

"What's so funny?" I ask. 

"You were worried he was going to turn you down," she says with a smirk. "The way he's looking at you today, I'd say you're going to have to move mighty quick to be the one to make the first move. You mark my words, Joshua, that boy's ready to pounce on you. Don't be too surprised if you find him at your door one night soon." 

"Rebecca!" I exclaim. "I can't even begin to explain how uncomfortable this makes me feel. It just isn't right, you being so....so..." 

"Involved? Aware? Practical?" 

"Enthusiastic!" I exclaim, certain from the heat on my face that I'm blushing. 

She just laughs harder and gets up from the table to prepare dinner. 

* * *

Dinner is an interesting affair in the Reynolds' household - loud and informal, full of conversation and discussion about just about everything and food, lots and lots of food. A lot of ranchers keep their men separate from their family, but not Rebecca. We're like an extended family to her and her boy, so we all pile into a big dining area and share our day while we eat. 

Things tonight feel a bit strained, however, as Malcolm and I keep finding ourselves eyeing each other. We're both trying to be surreptitious about it, but we keep looking at each other at the same time and then we both look away suddenly, embarrassed at being caught. After the third or fourth time, I look over to see Rebecca watching us both with a smug look in her eye. 

That woman is going to drive me to drink, I swear. 

A bunch of us help tidy up after the meal, which turns into a comedy of errors for Malcolm and I as we keep getting in each other's way. There's a moment when we have the whole gorram kitchen in stitches as we both step back and forth in the same direction while trying to get around each other with an armload each of dishes. 

"Should I get my fiddle?" Vince calls out. Malcolm turns a bright red, but finally stops mirroring my steps so I take the opportunity to get around him. "I think that's all the dancing I'm up for, tonight," I say. "Gorram knee is aching like a son of a wh..." I stop when I see Rebecca's arched brow. It's not that she's offended by rough talk, the Lord knows I've heard some mighty colourful language tripping off her tongue over the years, but she'd prefer we didn't, so we try not to cuss around her. "..uh it's aching a lot. I'd say we're in for a fair drenching tonight." 

We finish up and the men trickle out of the kitchen, headed for their bunks. I look around and suddenly realize that Rebecca has disappeared, leaving me alone with Malcolm. I dry the last dish and hand it off to him, our fingers brushing briefly, like this morning, and we just stand and stare at each other. And just keep on staring. Malcolm's starting to flush and I feel myself leaning towards him, I hear his breath catch in his throat, and I lean closer and closer. Our lips are about two inches apart when the door to the kitchen swings open and Malcolm jerks away from me. 

"Just about done here?" Rebecca asks; her face the picture of innocence. I would dearly love to know what the woman is playing at. She leaves us alone and then interrupts at just about the worst possible moment. 

"Yes, Ma'am," Malcolm replies, as he puts the last dish away. I can see from where I stand that his hands are trembling, just the smallest bit. 

"Then away with you both," she says, making shooing gestures with her hands. "I've got to get the dough started for tomorrow's bread." 

"Thank you for another fine meal, Rebecca," I say and then pat Malcolm on the shoulder, "Goodnight, Malcolm." 

Malcolm starts a little at my touch and then smiles shyly, "Goodnight Joshua. Sleep well." 

I nod my farewell to Rebecca and head out into the light drizzle that's just starting, my mind dwelling on Malcolm's shy smile. 

* * *

One of the perks of being overseer is that I no longer have to sleep in the common quarters with the rest of the men. My cottage isn't far from the main house, but it gives me some privacy while ensuring that I am immediately available for any circumstances that might arise. It also means that when my knee is bothering me, like tonight, I don't have to worry about disturbing others with my wakefulness. 

I'm sitting in a chair with my sore leg up, reading a book and sipping whiskey when the knock comes at my door. Frowning in puzzlement, I get up and open the door. Standing there is Malcolm, damp from the rain that is now coming down more forcefully, looking up at me with wide eyes. 

"Malcolm? What's wrong? Is it your mother?" I ask. 

He shakes his head and without a word he launches himself at me and presses his lips to mine. His hands are all over me, touching, squeezing, and caressing every part he can reach. His lips are hot and insistent on mine as he begins to tug at my clothes. He can't seem to make up his mind, and his hands drift from my now half open shirt to my pants and back up. I try to pull away and gain some control of the situation, but Malcolm clings to me and kisses me harder, pushing his tongue past my unresisting lips and into my mouth to tease and taunt my tongue. 

I moan quietly and pull him close realizing that I need to take the edge off of his desire before he kills me. I reach for his pants and undo them quickly. As soon as my hand touches his cock he moans and tears his lips from mine and buries his face against my neck. I wrap my hand around the hot, rigid length of him and he starts to thrust almost immediately, fucking my hand as hard as he can. 

"Yes, Malcolm, like that. Come on, xinggan, come for me," I whisper in his ear, encouraging him to thrust faster and faster. With a muffled yelp, Malcolm starts spurting against my palm. He clings to me as his body trembles and I stroke his back with my free hand. 

Malcolm lifts his face away from my neck and flushes with embarrassment. "I'm...I'm sorry, Josh. I..." 

"Shhh, it's okay, Malcolm, no need for shame." I kiss him softly on the lips and then very deliberately start to lick his come off my hand. 

Malcolm turns very red and his eyes widen with shock. I smile and offer him my hand. Very tentatively, he licks some of the fluid off my fingers. He makes a bit of a face, which tells me he's never tasted his own come before, and then he takes another, longer lick. Before he has a chance to swallow, I kiss him long and hard, licking the viscous liquid off his tongue. He moans into my mouth and clutches at my shirt, pulling me closer. 

I tuck him back into his pants and guide him towards my bunk and push him down gently until he's seated on it. Looking down at him, I finish unbuttoning my shirt and toss it on the floor. His hands come up and very slowly start to glide over my stomach and ribs. My muscles ripple and twitch under his fingers and he smiles up at me. 

Malcolm stands and slowly slides his hands up my body, his fingers tangling in my chest hair. He lays his hands flat against my chest and begins to rub my nipples with the palms of his hands using slow circular motions. I moan quietly. He's watching my face the whole time, gauging my reaction to what he's doing. I moan louder when he tugs gently on each of my nipples with his fingers and arch into his touch. Still looking up at me, he leans forward slowly and swipes his tongue across the taut nub. I gasp loudly and hold his head in place as he begins to suck. 

Our eyes never once break contact as he pulls away from one nipple and begins on the next. Groaning, I tug him by the hair and pull his greedy mouth away from my flesh. I cup his head in both hands and kiss him hard, sliding my tongue into his mouth and teasing his tongue until it follows mine back into my mouth. I suck on it until he's arching against me. Slowly, I lessen the intensity of the kiss, and tug his shirt out of his pants. 

I pull back and start unbuttoning his shirt. Malcolm slides his hands up and down my arms and along my chest, letting me undress him. I slide my fingers inside the flaps of his shirt and stroke my hands up his body. I brush my thumbs across his nipples on the way up and his body jerks slightly. In a sudden move, I grab the edges of the shirt and tug it down sharply, trapping his hands behind his back. Malcolm gasps in surprise and his eyes widen in shock and then darken with lust as I pull him towards me. 

We both moan quietly when our chests meet. I kiss him fiercely and let go of his shirt, letting his hands loose. He frees his hands from the shirt and wraps his arms tightly around me. Our bodies press together tightly and I know he can feel my erection against his hip. His hands slide down my ribs to my waist and he starts to fumble at my pants. What seems like hours pass, but he finally has them open and he reaches inside. His first touch is tentative and light, but when I moan into his mouth he gains confidence and begins to stroke me slowly. 

He pulls away from my lips and looks down, watching my cock twitch and pulse as he runs feather light fingers along its length. He runs his thumb along the slit, collecting the pre-come that has gathered and brings it up to his mouth. 

Malcolm frowns slightly. "It tastes different," he says quietly in confusion. 

I am struck once again of just how young and inexperienced the boy in my arms is and I stroke his face gently as I reply, "It will. Each person has their own, special taste, Malcolm." I tilt his face up and kiss him again. I take his hands in mine and sit down on the bed, pulling him down beside me. He looks at me with such trust and innocence and desire that my chest tightens. 

"Are you sure you want this?" I ask. "Want me? You're so young..." 

Malcolm stops me by tugging me close and kissing me hard. "I've wanted this for so long, Josh. You have no idea. I've had a crush on you forever," Malcolm says fiercely, his face flushing at the confession. "I just didn't know until today that you wanted me too." 

"Tianna, Malcolm, how could you not notice how much I've wanted you?" I whisper and pull him in for a gentle kiss. He groans and wraps his arms around me, pressing impossibly close, clutching tightly at me. I put my arms around him and deepen the kiss. He leans into me, pressing me back onto the bed and shifts until he's lying on top of me. 

We're half-on and half-off the bed as we kiss wildly and rock against each other, our actions becoming more and more frantic as our desire for each other builds to the breaking point. Malcolm's body is hot and solid against mine and I slide my hands down his back to the waistband of his pants and start to push them down off his hips. Suddenly Malcolm sits up and starts tugging at the laces on his boots. I sit up and help him get rid of the boots and socks and soon we're both lying back on the bed helping each other wriggle out of our remaining clothes. 

I push Malcolm down flat on the bed so I can look at him. His body is a thing of beauty - powerful, solid, layered with muscles, with just a trace of puppy fat left that gives him a slight softness around the edges. I run my hands over his smooth skin, a rich brown where the sun has kissed it. I follow the curves and contours of his body, mapping them, trying to memorize them with my hands and my eyes. 

Malcolm watches me with lust-filled eyes and arches into my touch. He puts up with the teasing for a few moments more and then reaches for me, pulling me down and kissing my breath away. His strong hands begin their own exploration and I shiver in delight as his fingers work their way along my weathered skin. 

We touch and kiss and tease for long moments before Malcolm whispers breathlessly, "Josh, please. I need more than this. I...I want...made," Malcolm gasps as I run the tips of my fingers across the head of his cock, "Josh, I want you. I need you. I..." He clutches at me desperately, arching against me and thrusting against my hand. 

"Lie on your side," I say before I kiss him gently. As much as I want to be able to watch Malcolm's face as I make love to him, my knee can't handle my weight tonight. This is the best position for me; it's one of the few that allows me to retain control without putting any pressure on the injury. 

Malcolm returns the kiss and rolls onto his side. I get what I need out of the drawer of my bedside table and place it on the bed beside me. I run my hands along Malcolm's back and sides and kiss his shoulder. "This is going to feel really strange at first, Malcolm, but you'll get used to it. You just have to remember to breathe. If you want to stop, if you can't handle it, tell me, okay?" 

"I won't want you to stop, Josh," Malcolm replies and twists his head and shoulders around so that he can brush his lips against mine. "I want this, I want you." 

I stroke his face gently, "It can hurt, Malcolm, no matter how much you may want to do this, no matter how much I try not to hurt you. I just wanted you to know that it's okay to say stop, dong ma?" 

He smiles softly and nods before whispering against my lips, "I won't need to." He kisses me once more and then turns back onto his side. 

With trembling hands I pick up the tube of lubricant and squeeze some out onto my fingers. After I've warmed it, I slide one finger down the cleft of Malcolm's ass and find the tightly puckered opening. He gasps and twitches away and then shifts back. 

I prepare him slowly, gently, one finger at a time, gradually loosening the strong muscles and teasing him until he's rocking back against my hand and moaning for more. Every sound he makes sends a shiver right through me. I twist my fingers upward and gently stroke against Malcolm's prostate. His whole body shudders hard and he gasps with pleasure. 

"Tianna!" Malcolm exclaims arching back onto my hand. "More." 

I lean in, lick the shell of his ear and stroke the sensitive gland again. Malcolm moans my name. I kiss his neck and pull my fingers out slowly. My cock is so hard it aches, but I need to make this good for him, I won't rush it no matter how much my body is screaming at me to take him hard and fast. 

I quickly slick myself up and align my cock with the opening to his body. As I start to press in, Malcolm goes very still and tenses. I stop and stroke my hand down his side and hip. "You have to relax, Malcolm," I murmur in his ear. I keep caressing his skin and kissing his neck and shoulders until I feel the tension ease out of him. "That's it, baobei, that's it," I say and begin to push in again. I place one hand on his hip and hold him steady as I press deeper and deeper into the tight heat of his body, one slow inch at a time, pausing to give his body time to adjust to the intruder. By the time my hips touch the solid curve of Malcolm's ass, we're both panting and sweating and shaking with need. I pause and catch my breath. 

"Tianna, Josh," Malcolm whispers, "It feels so...oh God...so good." He arches his back against my chest and reaches around us to grab my ass. He starts to rock his hips and I moan softly at the sensation and begin to thrust slowly into the tight furnace of Malcolm's body. 

Our rhythm is slow and awkward, impeded by the fact that we're on our sides and neither of us can get proper leverage, but we soon find one that works. I hold Malcolm close and murmur words of affection in his ear as I thrust into him. 

It's incredible, better than I had ever imagined it would be - his body tight and burning around me; his quiet moans and breathless pants entwining with mine, and echoing around us; the scent of sex and sweat filling the air; his hand, hot and strong on my ass, squeezing and pulling me deeper and deeper into him; the firm curve of his ass bouncing against my hips; the taste of his skin as I kiss and lick my way along his shoulder and neck. I must falter in my rhythm, because Malcolm whimpers, "Josh, please. Don't stop," before rocking his hips hard against me. 

I lick a wet path along his neck and shoulder, and change my angle of penetration so that now every stroke glides along his prostate. Malcolm gasps and clutches hard at my ass. 

"Made!" Malcolm exclaims and rocks his hips harder and faster. I match his tempo, pounding at his prostate, making him whimper and shudder in pleasure with every stroke. Our breath is coming in short, hard gasps and our moans get louder and louder, neither of us making any effort to be quiet. 

I'm getting close, my balls tight and aching as my orgasm builds and builds. I want to bring Malcolm with me when I fall, so I slide my hand from his hip to his cock and start to jerk him off. Malcolm thrusts into my hand and twists his head around to capture my lips in a desperate, needy kiss. His moans are lost in my mouth as I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue deep into his mouth. 

With a loud cry, Malcolm tears his lips away from mine and quivers and jerks in my arms as hot come spills out over my hand and onto the bed. His body tightens around me, sending me over the edge into my own orgasm. 

"Mal," I moan as my cock pulses deep inside him over and over again. I haven't come this hard in years, maybe even decades, and I collapse against him, panting as my heart tries to pound its way through my chest. I gasp for air, my whole body still twitching and jerking with aftershocks. I close my eyes for a moment. 

When I wake up, I'm lying on my back and Malcolm is curled against me, running his fingers through my chest hair. 

"Oh shit. How long was I out?" I ask, completely embarrassed. 

Malcolm shifts up onto an elbow so that he can look down on me. He strokes my face lightly, "Not long, about ten minutes, maybe." 

I cup his hand against my face and turn to plant a kiss on his palm. "I'm sorry, Malcolm." 

He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. "Nothing to be sorry for. I liked watching you sleep." 

I pull him against me and kiss him harder. He smiles at me - a smile that melts my soul and caresses my face again. "When you came, you called me Mal," he says, a faint blush on his cheeks. "I'd really like it if you called me that. At least whenever we're together, alone like this. It probably won't do to call me Mal in front of the other hands or my mother, they'd notice something was going on if you started calling me something new." 

"Whatever you want, Mal," I reply and kiss him again, a thrill going through me at the implication this is going to be a regular event. He melts into my arms and we lie there exchanging long, languid kisses for a spell before Malcolm - Mal - pulls away. 

"I guess I should go," he says quietly. "I should probably get back to my bed before Ma gets up and wonders where I am." 

I don't have the heart to tell him that his mother will know exactly where he is. I look at the clock by my bed. "Your mother doesn't get up for another four hours, Mal. You can stay for a few hours more - unless you want to go..." I say in sudden trepidation. 

"Go? Of course I don't want to go, Josh," Mal says. 

"Good," I reply, smiling. "I'll set the alarm and we can get a few hours sleep before you have to sneak back into the house." 

Mal grins at me. "I like that idea." 

I smile back and give him a quick kiss before setting the clock. We crawl under the covers and Mal curls himself against me, resting his head on my chest. I run my fingers through his soft hair and kiss the top of his head. 

Mal sighs quietly and wraps his arm tighter around my chest and slowly drifts off to sleep. I hold him close and I am overwhelmed by the love I feel for the boy in my arms. 

It hits me for the first time like a blow to the gut. I love him. I am in love with a 17-year old boy. Someone who will outgrow me and leave me behind, no matter how much I will it otherwise, and I think that maybe Rebecca Reynolds was worried about the wrong heart getting broken. 


End file.
